


Victory

by jeza_red



Category: Avengers (Comic), Thor (2011)
Genre: Gen, frantic Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeza_red/pseuds/jeza_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt on #norsekink (http://norsekink.livejournal.com/3231.html?thread=7395999#t7395999)</p><p>Sometimes hating someone takes just too much out of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory

It’s surprisingly easy to just grab Thor and turn him on his back – Loki has a half of a second to think. The man is big, and heavy, but right now? It’s as if his skin is filled with air and the heavy armour is made of plastic.

Much later Loki will wonder if the blind panic can give a person enough strength to lift a building. Because he didn’t _exactly_  lift it but... it sure didn’t just flip back fifty feet by itself.

(Much later Phil Coulson will be watching the recorded fight and he will choke on his coffee. But there will be no one to see it, of course.) 

“...Loki...”

“Shut up!” Loki shouts. He has to shout otherwise he’ll explode or, even worse, he’ll get all emotional. Anger is so much easier to hold onto. It’s much more productive emotion, anyway. “Don’t speak, you idiotic, stumbling oaf of a man, imbecile...”

“Loki... are you... well?” Thor tries to speak, he really does, but his voice is wavering, his breath shallow and Avengers are never quiet when fighting someone. His brother’s rambling doesn’t help.

“Don’t speak!”  Loki all but yells at him and Thor can see that his green eyes are taking on that dangerous red hue. Usually it means that the nearest square mile of landwill be flattened into the ground and Thor reaches blindly for Mjolnir...

...or he would, if he only knew where his right hand was. He could barely feel his own body.

“...cretinous churl! You are the bane of my existence, Thor Odinson!”

It is never a good sign when Loki starts to refer to him by his full name.

It means that the Trickster is at the end of his patience. Good. If he can scream that loud, it means that he’s alright.

“Are you... unharmed... brother?” Thor tries again. Hm, it’s weird, he would swear that he’s felt blood on his tongue.

Good, he can feel his tongue at least.

Loki stops moving for a second, his body goes stiff, but his arms shake a little. He can see the concern in Thunderer’s eyes – but most of all he can see the blood covered wounds on his chest and stomach, the thin line of red running down Thor’s face and every shallow breath that turns into a small puff of mist by his bloody lips.

It’s so unreal that he wants to close his eyes and forget about it. He wants to get up and leave, let Thor’s human friends take care of the stumbling fool, for he loves them so much!

But it was not the hit that was meant for them, that the idiot stopped. It was not a danger to THEM that Thor took upon himself.  It was not the Ironman, not the Captain he was asking “are you unharmed” while barely being able to draw a breath.

Loki has to scream, because this... this is too much. Pressing his bloody hands to his eyes, he screams and maybe... maybe it’s not so much of an enraged scream, as it is a wail. Or maybe both, mixed into one, impossible sound.

He stops when the blood from his hands touches his lips. It’s not his blood.    

“You. Speak. No. More.” He grounds out, barely a noise, bowing his head to look directly into Thor’s eyes. “Or I will let you die.”

Blue eyes are tired and full of pain, but a little spark appears in them just for a moment, just a tiny shine of “ _No, you won’t._ ” And Loki wants to scream _and rage and tear things apart_ and prove the fool wrong! ...but he can’t.

But, by Norns, how he absolutely hates that this one person in the world knows him that  well.

“I hate you,” he growls, pulling Thor’s shredded skin over his exposed ribs. Not too gentle also, but that’s okay, he’s showing enough kindness already and they both know it.  Cold, sharp glare of his magic is expected and almost welcome. “I hate you more than you can ever understand, even if you weren’t the cretin you are. Self-righteous fool, the stars will wane and I will still hate you!”

“I know...” Thor mouths, but there’s a smile in his eyes. Because he knows what he’s doing right now.

And Loki stills for a second, suddenly aware that he just stepped into a trap that he’s laid out himself.

“...but I... don’t... hate you... brother...”

DAMN IT TO HEL! 

Loki stands up, he has to, otherwise he will _tear and shred and maim_ something he just finished putting back together and he is absolutely loathe to undo his own hard work.

He searches for another target, something that he will be able to sink his teeth into without fear of it knowing him too well. His eyes land on the flying man fighting Avengers – the idiot who had the brass to try and do away with Loki, The Trickster and God of Lies.

Loki never appreciated inexperienced backstabbers – they weren’t fun to play with and always created more mess that they were worth. 

Yes, this one will do quite nicely.

He gathers his magic around himself and looks one last time on the prone form of the God of Thunder. This is the only concession he’s willing to give, only thanks the idiot will ever get from him.

“I am unharmed,” he speaks and turns into blue smoke, one last word hanging in the air in his wake. “...brother.”

On the broken ground, barely feeling his own body, Thor Odinson smiles in victory. 


End file.
